INDEPENDENCE DAY

When I was a kid growing up in Queens during the early 1960’s, I used to look so forward to the fourth of July. Mr. Forgione, the neighbor living directly across the street from us, would drive his Cadillac to the end of our dead-end block which was adjacent to acres of empty lot, a perfect location to simulate a war zone. Lit cigar positioned in the corner of his mouth, he would sanctimoniously exit his vehicle and walk in what appeared to be slow motion towards the rear of the car. We watched impatiently as Mr. F took his sweet time nonchalantly sorting through the dozens of keys on his filled to capacity key ring, feeling for the one which would unlock his trunk, finally revealing the treasure chest of illegal thrills. He pretended to be bored with the annual ritual, ignoring the yelps of excitement coming from all the neighborhood kids who marveled at the vast amount of explosives he generously shared with us year after year. It was the one day when my dad freely handed over his cigarettes to me so I could light the fuses of whatever fireworks I got my hands upon. Every now and then when he wasn’t looking, I would sneak a drag because, somehow, it made me feel cool.

Our block put on quite the fireworks display. Although we may have been a far cry from Grucci and the extravaganza staged by Macy’s, we believed it was most spectacular. The end of our street looked like a scene out of World War II. Bottle rockets, sky rockets, cherry bombs, sparklers, helicopters, and mats upon mats of firecrackers filled the sky with showers of shimmering light and thunderous booms and bangs. I used to think Mr. Forgione had to be a millionaire to be able to afford the infinite supply of fireworks he religiously donated to the 137^th Street Independence Day Celebration.

I distinctly recall how on the morning of every July 5^th, my friend and neighbor Bob Donohue would waddle up to my house and ring my doorbell first thing in the morning so we could scour the fields looking for duds. We collected the hundreds of firecrackers that didn’t ignite the night before, took them home, emptied the gunpowder and built our own super bomb. Curious, inventive, naïve and stupid, one year we stuffed the explosive dust into a glass jar along with bits of homemade shrapnel, which contained nuts, bolts and pebbles. We then attached a long fuse, and after our day-long project was complete, we returned to the sight of the previous night’s battleground, and placed our concoction inside one of the huge cement cylinders that sat like a mysterious structure in the middle of the lot, reminiscent of an ancient Sphinx or Stonehenge.  One day in the future I learned the weed-filled acres would soon be occupied with new roads and homes and the mysterious structures were nothing more than dry wells. We assumed it was a safe distance away from the homes bordering the lot. Experiencing the thrill of creating some mischief, we lit the fuse and ran for our lives. Standing at the edge of our street, we watched and waited. From where we stood, we could barely make out the sizzling of the slow burning fuse, and then suddenly we heard the loudest explosion echo from inside the walls of the dry well and immediately following the blast, I felt a sharp pain radiating from my shin. Not knowing what had hit me or bit me, I looked down to see blood trickle down my leg. My injury was caused by a fragment of the shrapnel that had been launched from our homespun weapon. “Shit!” I yelped in anger, “How could I be so stupid?” I hobbled home, disinfected my wound, and applied a bandage. Bob and I went back to the dry well the next day to see the extent of the damage caused by our little bomb. A few of the tiny screws were imbedded into the once grey cement walls that had been blackened by the blast. When I think about how such an amateurish, makeshift concoction assembled by two stupid kids could cause such harm, I could only imagine the devastation brought about by the real thing.

Say or think what you will, but I am no longer a fan of fireworks or the Fourth of July. Let’s face it, fireworks represent the “bombs bursting in air,” and to me, bombs only mean bloodshed, death and destruction. I thoroughly understand how Independence Day is supposedly a celebration of our country’s independence, yet at the same time I wonder about how free we really are. Granted, compared to the rest of the world, I guess we can safely pretend to be free. The question is, from what and from whom have we been liberated? According to the pages of history, courageous souls from England flocked to these shores seeking religious freedom. Once they got here, they encountered the American Indians, who as far as I could tell, had it pretty together, spiritually speaking. They saw and revered the wondrous workings of nature. Along came the white man with his Monotheistic God, his Christianity, its doctrine and its many variations, and before long, Native American spirituality went out the window and religion set its nasty claws into the soil of the brave new world, setting the stage for rape, bloodshed, greed, deception and slavery; all Godly behavior I’m certain!

Not for anything, but the biggest culprits of unrest and global violence all stem from the three religions that emanated from the god of Abraham; Christianity, Judaism and Islam. From their inception to this very day, people are dying unnecessarily over religious differences. Why is it that absolutely no blood has ever been spilled over Eastern religions such as Buddhism or Hinduism? To me, all religion is delusional and unproven, but if I had to choose one, it would certainly be one that propagates non-violence! 

So here we are in the 21^st century, in the land of the free, the melting pot of race and religion, where government is deceitful and people are divided. When I see the flags waving and the fireworks exploding on this Fourth of July, I have to ask myself if Americans really believe they are as free as they think they are. Admittedly, I agree that up until now, our freedoms have been better than those of most other countries around the globe. We do not live under the reign of a mad dictator…yet! As far as I’m concerned, freedom means not having to live in fear, judgment, prejudice and anxiety, yet we live in a nation where millions pop anti-depressants daily, where people are judged by race, creed and sexual preference, and where churches are full of those who claim to be believers because they live in fear of the consequences of a place of eternal torment, Hell! We drive along roadways where there are hidden cameras at almost every intersection waiting to catch an unsuspecting driver streak past a yellow light. Technology makes it possible for government agencies to pinpoint our every move through the use of our cell phones, credit cards and E-Z passes. We are scanned, screened and body searched at airports, sporting arenas and concert venues. I have read that as much as 53% of every tax dollar has gone to funding the wars most of us are opposed to. Try and stop paying your taxes and see where that lands you! We live in a nation where politicians continue to lie, cheat and live adulterous lives, yet because they have been initiated into the “club,” their futures are secure with comfortable pensions and lifelong medical coverage, while the citizens of the country can’t find jobs with salaries substantial enough to meet the high cost of living, have lost their life savings due to the fraud on Wall Street, and can’t afford medical insurance. A rumor that Social Security may no longer exist for future generations is a disheartening thought to say the least. Are we really free?

It has been said that “The truth shall set you free!” I guess the answer is to find the truth. The one truth we all can be sure about is that we die. Where we go after we die is all speculation and in many cases wishful thinking. So basically, all we can be sure about is that once we are born we are on the inevitable path to our death. That should be more than enough to make humans realize we are all equal. No one is any better than the next. The simple notion of our mortality should be reason enough to squash our egos and inspire us to live as one. I think if and only when we are able to come to that place, we may finally be on the path to freedom. Until then, let’s all take a long hard look into the mirror and face the sad truth…we just pretend to be free.   

            

       

JUST SAYING

I grew up in a country at a time when even the neighborhood Good Humor man could afford a modest home in a decent suburban community, pay his bills and provide for his family. Little did I know that while everyone seemed to be happily chugging along, behind the scenes were very powerful, soulless men with evil, greedy hearts, who were members of a secret society responsible for devising a scheme that would ultimately allow them to control the world’s finances by perpetuating the crippling of the unsuspecting, hard-working middle class. Sounds like a bit of a horror movie, doesn’t it?  

Here I am some fifty years later, witnessing close friends and relatives who have toiled through the years only to watch their houses go into foreclosure and lose everything they’ve worked for, such as retirement funds and pensions. Several of my acquaintances have gone into bankruptcy as the American Dream they labored to achieve is slowly turning into an irreversible nightmare.

As a kid, everything made sense to me. Life was simple with easy steps to follow; get a college degree, find a job, invest in a house, raise a family, buy a bigger house with the profit from the sale of the first house, retire and live happily ever after. I was planning on providing for my children and allowing them to have the same or even better opportunities, paving their road to a secure future. It seemed foolproof, what could possibly go wrong?

One by one, local businesses are shutting down. Jobs are scarce and salaries can’t keep up with the rising costs of life’s basic necessities. For sale signs are staked into the front lawns of every other home in every town. Gasoline prices are nearing five dollars per gallon, fruits and vegetables are being genetically modified depriving human beings of the nutrients mother earth was designed to provide for us. Safely grown organic produce is so expensive, only the wealthy can afford them. Processed foods are not fit for human consumption, yet they are the bulk of what is affordable and available on supermarket shelves. We are what we eat, therefore the majority of the nation is sick and under the care of doctors who only know how to write out prescriptions for pharmaceutical drugs. Medical insurance plans will not cover safe homeopathic remedies, but gladly cover the astronomical costs of synthetic drugs with harmful side effects, thereby keeping the population ill, addicted to pills and fattening the ever increasing pockets of the pharmaceutical companies who just happen to be in cahoots with the FDA. Coincidence, I don’t think so!

How did this happen? I can’t say for certain, but I have some theories. North America was once a land occupied by Native Americans who revered the Great Spirit, the Earth and everything upon it. Religiously oppressed white men from across the ocean set sail for new lands in search of religious freedom. When they arrived, in the name of the God customized to suit their needs, they swindled, raped, slaughtered and spread disease, wiping out virtually millions of America’s inhabitants. The “civilized” white men colonized and set up governments under the pretext they were here with God’s blessings and all those who followed bought it hook, line and sinker. Not unlike the Jews who were thoroughly convinced that the nation of Israel was the apple of God’s eye, the early settlers believed wholeheartedly America was the new Promised Land. The indoctrination process had begun and America eventually grew into an arrogant, greedy, self-righteous nation underhandedly causing havoc around the globe with the pretense God was on their side, “One nation under God, with liberty and justice for all,” a lie just as blatant as the ones claiming that Honey Nut Cheerios lowers cholesterol or Wonder Bread grows strong bodies in twelve ways!

The sacred philosophy of the country’s natives vanished right along with them. What was once deemed as hallowed ground became disrespected and abused as an Industrial Revolution with no conscience for the environment, ravaged the land and polluted the skies and rivers. Not satisfied with what existed within our own borders, we began to terrorize the globe, instigating wars with no regard for the planet or human life, all under the false premise that God was rooting for us. The greed has escalated to the point where American politics has become a joke, our crumbling nation is the laughing stock of a volatile planet and people worldwide are defenseless and fed up. Has anybody figured out that maybe the contrived God this crooked nation has been claiming to honor and serve since annihilating practically an entire race is a far cry from any semblance of truth?  

Depending upon one’s mindset, we are currently living in an age that can be looked upon as very exciting or very frightening. There’s no doubt that every system created by man is on the verge of collapse. Government, religion and economics are failing. The human race has become so consumed by the illusion of materialism, people have forgotten to give credence to the reality of spirit. What would inspire a thinking person to believe that a Divine Entity capable of creating an infinite Universe might even consider favoring a geographical location on a speck in the cosmos such as The United States of America or a religious cult such as Christianity? The notion is totally preposterous. The occupants of Earth desperately need to unite, redefine themselves as Earthlings, and join in an undying effort for the common good to develop ecological alternatives to fossil fuel energy. They need to succeed in restoring the soil and the waterways so that our food source will once more grow in abundance and provide the essential nutrients. When a belief system has been advocating an escape plan to the so-called inevitable end of the world to its millions of brainwashed followers for the past two-thousand years, why would any of them be overly concerned with caring for a planet they assume will one day explode into oblivion?  Unless human beings alter their manner of thinking, readjust their value systems and rise above the physical, they cannot and will not survive. Unless we learn to respect one another, recognize each other as a collective soul, and rise up to a higher level of consciousness, survival will be out of the question. It is time to revolutionize by recognizing the Divine within and allowing the positive energy of love to guide and sustain us. It is time to tear down the dark walls of the boxes that have been dividing us and to step into the eternal light. It is time for all men to acknowledge the false security of the comfort zones we created for ourselves. This era calls for the disabling of our stubborn egos, to let go of the unproven theories we wrongly defend, realize our connection to all life and to finally identify ourselves as One. Those of us who continue to remain asleep by clinging to the lies, misgivings, delusions and agendas of a misguided past will be in for a rude awakening. World without end, Amen!          

MERRY SHITSMAS!

Ever since Thanksgiving, I’ve been tip-toeing about the house hoping to avoid any conversation that might have anything to do with putting up Christmas lights. Most people who know me are well aware that I’m not a fan of December! Without getting into all the details, I’ll just say quickly that my twenty-five year career as a UPS man, working non-stop into the late hours of the evening from mid-October until December 24^th, destroyed any fondness I may have had at one time for the holiday. Having an inquisitive mind and asking endless questions about the origins of Christmas, and Christianity for that matter, has contributed greatly to my wanting to hibernate through the season.

Well here it was December 16^th and my luck had run out. While I was trying to enjoy the last few drops of my morning cup of coffee, my wife entered the kitchen and gently approached me asking if I was going to help her put up the Christmas lights. “Damn,” I thought, “One of these years I’m going to get away with not decorating!”

I didn’t really want her to think of me as a heartless, selfish bastard, so trying with the best of my ability not to show my annoyance, I answered affirmatively and as pleasantly as possible, “Sure honey, I’ll help you!”

“I’ll arrange the lights on the bushes,” she said compromisingly, “I just need you to hook them up to the electric!”

Putting up Christmas lights on my house can sometimes turn into a three day nightmare. Aside from the torturous ordeal of untwisting miles of tangled wire only to find yet another set has died completely, my wife is very particular on how the lights are displayed; symmetry is of extreme importance. There is perfect order to all she does; OCD runs in her family! My motto, “Fuck it, it’s good enough,” does not sit well with her. This year, however, she agreed to concede by not overdoing it; this year she promised not to light up the entire house and to decorate the front bushes only. Relieved by the comforting thought that the annual Christmas light ritual was going to be somewhat toned down this year, I offered my assistance, assuming the task would take up only ninety minutes of my time…tops! What do they say about the best laid plans?

There we were; me and Mrs. Claus, neatly draping lights from bush to bush. It was going along pretty smoothly, I had to say. We weren’t arguing; she wasn’t being overly fussy. We were almost done; there was just one bush remaining. She gave me an engaging smile that led me to believe she was pleased to know we weren’t bickering as she headed towards the front steps with plans to bring out the last two strings of lights. She stopped dead in her tracks just before pulling open the storm door. “Oh no!” she yelped with a horrified expression of dread and disgust. Her Santa-red cheeks turned ghostly white as she stomped her feet and grumbled, “I stepped in shit!”

My first thought was that it was probably mud she had mistaken for shit, but then the vile odor started to suddenly permeate the air alerting me to the fact that, as usual, she was right. There was no denying she had definitely stepped in shit, cat shit, in fact! One of our neighbors thought she was doing the humane thing several years ago by putting milk out for stray cats. Her backyard and garage are now havens for felines from all over Nassau County. Obviously, one of the many cats that seem to think they can drop their turds any old place they chose to, must have eaten something that wreaked havoc on its intestinal tract and relieved itself under our bush. Any ideas I may have entertained about getting our lights up in less than a couple of hours were over. I spent the remainder of the afternoon with the garden hose, a scrub brush, a bottle of ammonia, a rake, a shovel and a few plastic bags, courtesy of our local CVS. Not only did my wife get cat excrement on her sneakers, the front walkway and the steps leading to our front door, she got it on the bottom of her jeans. The day turned into an out and out shit-fiasco! Determined to finish the job, while I scrubbed and sprayed in repulsion, she returned to the scene wearing clean sweat pants and an old pair of flip-flops in an attempt to hang the last string of lights. As luck would have it, her foot found the one blob of cat shit I overlooked. Round two had begun.

Was there a lesson to be learned from this?  Was somebody trying to tell us something? I don’t know. Could her refraining from putting up Christmas lights to please me have prevented her from getting shit all over her shoes, clothes and front steps; or would my cooperating and going with the program to please her by putting up the lights myself have prevented me from having to clean the shit off her sneakers and scrub the front stoop with ammonia and freezing water on a cold December afternoon? Or did all of this occur simply because shit happens?  

  

HAPPY CHRISOLSTICHUWANZUKA

Thanksgiving is here and gone, and once again, Christmas is fast approaching. I’ve noticed many homeowners are taking advantage of the unusually mild weather by decorating their houses with lights and the larger-than-life blow-up displays that seem to get more over-the-top every year. The main streets of the village have already been lined with holiday trimmings and as I drive through the neighborhood, I snicker with ill-feelings towards the lunacy and hypocrisy of the season.    

As a kid, I loved Christmas. The months from June to December seemed to crawl as the joyful anticipation of the holiday grew more intense with each passing day. I think it was a combination of things that made Christmas so special for me. It goes without saying, receiving presents topped the list, but aside from that, it was the magical, dreamy feeling in the air. Somehow I was always taken over by an overwhelming, indescribable sense of security, peace and happiness. The people around me appeared to be curiously happy and friendly. Family gathered at each other’s homes to share meals, make conversation and exchange gifts, and maybe it was just my naïve, childlike way of looking at things, but love seemed to shine in everyone’s eyes. In my world, at Christmastime, everything ran smooth and each minute unfolded as if it had all been divinely planned.

Sitting tightly together in overcrowded pews, our family attended midnight Mass probably so we wouldn’t have to interrupt the Christmas Day festivities by having to attend church. To put it mildly, we got it out of the way! Year after year I listened to the choir sing the old familiar hymns about the little town of Bethlehem and the Savior being born to a virgin. It was hard to tell whether or not the congregation was sleeping or listening attentively to the repetitive sermons of the presiding priest as he recounted the heart wrenching tale of Mary and Joseph’s cold winter’s night. When the Mass was over, everyone greeted each other with hugs, handshakes and joyful exchanges of “Merry Christmas.” Looking back, it’s hard to tell if I really believed the far-fetched chronicles of the first Christmas. Everyone else seemed to, so how could I not have? Was it really such a far cry from the fable of Santa and the Flying Reindeer?

Today the world’s a much different place than it was fifty years ago. I don’t believe it’s at all necessary to rehash just how appallingly commercial Christmas has become. The complaints coming from Christians about how the real meaning of Christmas has been lost are unrelenting. My question is does Christmas even have a REAL meaning? It’s sad, but the older I become, the more I begin to realize NOTHING is real! As people evolve, technology advances, and information becomes readily available, if we choose to do so, we can easily discover where many, if not all, of our rituals and traditions originated. All of our practices, our belief systems and our holy days can be dated back and attributed to the miraculous synchronicity of the Universe, such as the placement of the moon, sun and stars, the timing of the tides and the harvest. Somehow, man wasn’t satisfied with his equal role among the wondrous workings of nature and in an egocentric effort to answer the unanswerable, decided to create religion, deeming him significantly more important than all living things and ultimately waging war upon all that has been designed to sustain him. Pretty sick and unfortunate if you ask me!         

I’m not going to expound upon why I don’t believe in celebrating Christmas or any other religious holiday. If anybody’s interested in broadening their minds or perhaps gaining some enlightenment, they can research the information for themselves. It’s right at their fingertips. What I am going to touch upon, however, is how tradition has enslaved us. The economy, after a few botched attempts at getting jump-started, is failing miserably. A vast amount of the population is unemployed and good-paying jobs are extremely hard to come by. Christmas, which has become the mother of all economy boosters, is once again right around the corner and the retailers are counting on the crumbling middle class to max out their high-interest credit cards in hopes of remaining in business. Parents will sink deeper into credit card debt not to disappoint their wide-eyed Santa believing children. Even though most people these days cannot afford to squander what little money they have, the guilt, obligation and pressure of having to make Christmas happen puts them in the poor house a little longer. When do we come to terms with the fact that all the stress and anxiety we put upon ourselves is nothing but illusion. We created it, we can eliminate it. If upcoming generations would bring up their children without feeding them the fairy tales that eventually lead to disappointment we can end this holiday stress! If upcoming generations raise their children without indoctrinating them with the guilt-ridden untruths of the religions of their ancestors, maybe we can put a stop to holiday lunacy.

Just for shits and giggles, why don’t we just admit to each other that none of us are sure about anything except death? Why don’t we just tell our kids the truth; humans have been on the earth for millions of years and we still haven’t figured out the meaning of life. Why not put an end to all the bullshit self-righteousness and encourage each other to simply love one another and enjoy the very limited amount of time we’ve got here. No one’s any better than anyone else. We all come and go through those revolving doors into eternity. If the answer is out there, one day each of us will find it. If it’s not, what does it matter?  Don’t stress, don’t worry and be happy! Happy Chrisolstichuwanzuka to all, and to all a good night!      

Veterans Day Blues

As much as I respect the need to pay homage to the men, women and children who served in the military to safeguard our rapidly disappearing freedoms, I am terribly distressed over the non-evolving state of man’s consciousness level and the sad fact that we still require maintaining strong defense systems to protect ourselves from each other! Even though we profess to all be created equal, we seem to have no qualms about killing one another.

Although it is comprised of only two letters, the word “if” is the largest word in the English language. So much rests upon “if.” The majority of people on Planet Earth, regardless of denomination, claim they believe in a higher power or a Divine Entity. For argument’s sake, allow me to call this entity, God. IF people really and truly believe in this God and his ever-watchful eye, would they behave the way they do? IF humanity really and truly believes in equality, would there be hunger, famine, prejudice and hate? IF we really and truly believe that God created the world and all that’s upon it, would we pollute and ravish the very land that sustains us? IF we really and truly believe that God is synonymous with love, how is it we’ve become divided to the point where we kill in his name? Some folks would answer these questions by giving credence to the existence of a devil or evil spirit. IF God is love and love conquers all, what’s the problem? No matter how one chooses to slice it, for me, it just doesn’t add up! Anything we desire, including peace, is possible. The sad truth is we probably don’t want it bad enough!

IF we all conducted our lives according to the two greatest commandments, love God and love each other as oneself, there would be no need for armies, police, prisons, locks, bolts, security alarms, watch dogs and weapons. From the way humans conduct their lives, I would venture to say that most of our prayers, worship services, religious rituals and holy books have been a complete waste of time. The only way to prove the existence of God in our lives is through the ability of each of us to TRULY love one another. For whatever reason, man has unconsciously reversed reality with illusion. We have put so much stock into the bullshit we created for our corporal lives, such as money and the acquisition of land, power and material things, we seemed to have forgotten the certainty that one day we will die a physical death and all the wealth we have accumulated will amount to less than zero.

I never quite understood man’s inhumanity towards other men. I never understood war and I especially don’t understand the role God plays in the lives of people when hurt, suffering and unfairness seem to be abundant. Somehow people tend to treat God as a life insurance policy. In other words, just in case a place of eternal damnation does exist, better to be on the safe side and get to church every now and then. Somehow it’s a whole lot easier looking for God in a building with stained glass windows rather than to search the depths of one’s soul.

I am grateful to every soldier, sailor, marine and fighter pilot who risked his life so that I have the freedom to speak my mind and worship or not worship as I choose. My heart goes out to every service man and woman who had to waste precious years of his or her life away from the comforts of home, exposed to the horrors of killing or the fear of trying to remain alive. My hope is that one day what we perceive as illusion or reality will shift. I long to see the presence of God, Love, Divinity, Positive Energy or whatever we choose to name the beautiful power controlling the Universe in the eyes of every man, woman, child and creature roaming the Earth. I yearn for the day when armed forces become completely unnecessary and obsolete. I’m a simple human being. If I can believe in this vision with my heart, mind and soul, then it is absolutely possible for all men to do the same. What’s the problem?       

DINOSAUR THOUGHTS

 In the early 1970’s, Marvin Gaye soulfully asked the question of questions, “What’s going on?”

In 1984 Marvin was sadly shot to death by his own father and today as we are fast approaching the year 2012, his words continue to resonate with thinkers and seekers around the globe.

Throughout many of my fifty-nine years of life on Planet Earth I was inadvertently conditioned to fear something or someone. I remember as a grammar school student how my teachers instructed the class to take cover under our desks in the event bombs started dropping from the sky upon St. Fidelis. The thought never even occurred to me to ask how a desk was supposed to protect us. I was taught to fear Cuba, Castro, Russia, Khrushchev, Communism, Socialism, black people, Satan and a wrathful God. It’s a wonder I didn’t turn out like most Americans, addicted to Prozac and a host of other antidepressants.

Risking that I may come off sounding like a relic, a character out of ancient history, I seem to have fond memories of the past, while having misgivings about a shaky future. I affectionately remember when concert halls, like New York City’s Fillmore East and Palladium, had reserved seating. $3.50, $4.50 or $5.50 got concert-goers four to five hours of the greatest music ever made in a venue where they could sit comfortably and partake in, devoid of paranoia, a mood enhancer of choice.  The last two concerts I was obligated to attend took place in huge arenas with no seating and exorbitant ticket prices. My son plays in a touring band that has had the opportunity to open for some headlining acts, and being a supportive dad, I was there. Fans eagerly piled in, uncomfortably crammed one on top of the other, standing and sweating for hours on end, bopping heads to the hypnotic thumping of bass and drums that set the back-beat to very unmelodious verses, choruses and meaningless lyrics. How anybody could honestly claim they were having a good time was baffling.

My daughter recently turned thirty. Her boyfriend organized a party that was given at the open air bar/club of a hotel on the lower west side of Manhattan. My wife and I are very fond of my daughter’s friends and we were more than happy to respond by clicking the “I’m attending” tab on the E-vite, another convenience tool of the social networking generation. Maybe I’m getting old, but I just don’t understand the mentality of clubbing. Partiers were four deep at the bar as three highly attentive bartenders vigorously mixed drinks, opened beers and ran tabs on a double deck of credit cards. The speakers pulsed while an over-exuberant DJ, who looked like he came direct from the Jersey Shore, programmed shrill and continuous techno pop, a genre I wrongfully assumed died in the 90’s. I was on my fourth Patron margarita which aided in my surrendering to the obnoxious drone of the computer driven rhythms that instigated the tapping of my feet and the bopping of my head. Before I knew it I was out on the dance floor like the old man at weddings who all the young people point to and chuckle at because of his stiff and antiquated moves. The pleasant buzz I had reached helped me to conveniently forget that I was old enough to be the father of everyone in the room.

“Hey, Mr. R, are you having fun?” one of my daughter’s equally beautiful college friends called out.

“If this is what you call having fun,” I wondered, “I suppose I am…” and gave her a great big smile with a thumbs up!

It did my heart good to see my daughters and company having such a great time, but it also made me realize how we occupy two completely different worlds. With the help of some Tequila, I was able to comfortably be a part of the world of my daughter’s generation, a generation living through some very strange times. Until the recent protests going on all over America, I was about ready to give up on today’s young people. When I was a kid, the songs I listened to stirred my mind and soul, not strictly my genitals. I cared about the earth; I raised my voice against war and violence and would like to think I lent a hand in ending the insanity in Viet Nam. I marched against a greedy establishment, but looking at the shape of things today, I seriously wonder if it did any good.

At the moment, people are gathering throughout the world, raising their voices in protest against corporate greed and the disappearance of the middle class. I have been watching closely and listening attentively to the gripes of the protestors and to the reactions of those opposed. Cries from the opposition have accused the jobless of being lazy, unmotivated cry-babies looking for government handouts. It’s easy for those who are still collecting hefty paychecks and living in homes that are in not in danger of foreclosing to judge and point fingers. It’s easy for those who are living comfortably to close their eyes to the irresponsible behavior of corporate CEO’s. The accusations that are being fired back and forth between the well-heeled and the agitated struggling majority are ludicrous to say the least. The problems facing the world today didn’t happen overnight. They have been brewing for decades and it was only a matter of time before the shit hit the fan. Those who have been content working a blue collar job, happy just to be getting by, are no longer getting by. Sadly, as American industry shuts its doors, the jobs have become scarcer. As corporations swallow one another, even those who were once holding managerial positions are standing in unemployment lines. The problems are real; they are not figments of the demonstrators’ imaginations.

For years, politicians have been groomed, hand selected, not elected, members of a club whose futures are secure. Sooner or later, they all get bought, unable to resist the exorbitant amounts of money offered to them by lobbyists for supporting their greedy, unapologetic agendas.  It’s no longer a secret that those who have somehow managed to find their way into the plush seats of  our corrupt government are merely soulless puppets whose strings are being pulled by the faceless yet very powerful few who control the world. In order to confront them we must first sever the strings and overthrow the conscienceless marionettes who obediently do their dirty work. People are fed up. They want the dishonesty, the greed and the irresponsibility of world government to cease. They want to see a bright future ahead for their children and their children’s children.

Personally, I don’t know what the answer is, but taking to the streets in peaceful protest is a start. I think world awareness to what has really been going on behind the scenes is long overdue. Too many of us have either been asleep, distracted by the mind-numbing garbage spewing forth from the media or simply overwhelmed by trying to stay afloat. I have nothing against wealth but everything against poverty, especially in a universe of boundless abundance. The lies of scarcity have deceived men into living lives occupied by fear and greed. Chancing that I may come off sounding like the idealistic hippie freak I am, I will humbly speak my mind by saying the only remedy for this backwards planet is to be governed by the golden rule…Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Not everyone has what it takes to be the president of a huge corporation, not everyone has what it takes to be a custodian, but no matter what position life places somebody in, he or she has to face it by being fair, honest and compassionate. Nothing else will work. Jesus said it. Gandhi said it. The Beatles said it…All we need is love.

Bill Graham’s Fillmore East was one of the greatest musical venues ever. The world’s best bands were happy to perform there in front of the most appreciative audiences. It truly was a gift. Record companies and managers started to demand more money for their bands which would have forced Bill to raise ticket prices, something he was dead set against. The result was the closing of the Fillmore. I don’t know if this is such a good analogy, but to me, it sure seems like greed has spoiled just about everything.

Earthquakes, Natural Disasters and the Fundamentalist Christian Mindset

Today the entire eastern seaboard of the United States was all abuzz with the news of an earthquake that hit Virginia and shook the walls of homes and buildings as far north as Montreal, Canada. At the time of the rumbling I was in my car on the south shore of Long Island heading towards Jones Beach and can honestly say I didn’t feel a thing.  

My wife and I plopped down into our beach chairs, stretched out under the mid-August sun when the vibrations of my cell phone deterred me from drifting into the tranquility of twilight sleep. It was my good friend and band-mate, Bob, who called to ask me if I felt the walls of my house shake. At first I thought he was referring to the band practice we had in my basement the night before. “No?” he questioned in disbelief, “Didn’t you just feel the earthquake?” I had no idea what he was talking about but then he fully explained the day’s events. “Holy smokes!” I shrieked, “You’ve got to be kidding!” and for a brief moment, all the warnings about God’s wrath that hailed from the pulpit during the years I occupied a pew in a Pentecostal church haunted me. “Oh crap,” I wondered, “What if they’re right?” There’s no denying that in recent years the weather has been very strange and the occurrences of natural disasters have been more frequent. If I were a Bible enthusiast I’d probably be out in the streets shouting, “Repent! The end is near!” But I’m not, and I try to use logic, science and common sense to explain why we repeatedly seem to be feeling the fury of Mother Earth.

As my wife and I were leaving the beach later that afternoon, we ran into an old acquaintance from the church I had escaped from nearly ten years ago. “Did you feel the earthquake?” she asked with an expression that was a combination of heightened concern and cautious exuberance.

“Get ready!” she smiled pointing towards the clouds, “Jesus is returning soon!”

I don’t quite know what it is with me, but whenever I hear certain folks sounding joyfully anxious over tragic events and relating them to a vengeful God, I tend to lose my tolerance. What exactly are they hoping for? It seems clear to me that according to them, before Jesus gets here, God’s children are going to have to face some cataclysmic events, such as earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis, economic collapse and all the wonderful incidents making today’s headlines. Those, however, who have made a conscious decision to make Jesus their personal savior, will be mysteriously removed from the planet in a twinkling of an eye and join him in the clouds as they embark on their way to eternal bliss with the angels and saints. Do these people really and truly believe this or have they simply convinced themselves that this extraordinary event will take place only to put their own fears to rest?

Not for anything, but it sounds to me as if their fear of death has them hoping for an improbable escape. It also sounds to me like they have an undeserved tremendous regard for themselves; like they are so special that God would hand select them to magically ascend into the heavens leaving behind millions of people who probably lived more Christ-centered lives than they themselves have lived. Everybody, sooner or later, has to face a physical death. If there is any truth to the presumption that humans have spirits or souls, then there should be no reason to fear death or no reason to want to physically escape death because spirit is eternal; it does not die. Truthfully, I think Fundamental Christians have done a great job of ruining Jesus’ reputation. I see Jesus as a gentle, caring, non-judgmental, compassionate soul who saw the hypocrisy in the arrogant, self-righteous religious hierarchy who thought they were holier than thou. I see Jesus as a deep teacher of Truth; someone who saw way beyond dogma and silly doctrines. I see Jesus as an enlightened avatar who knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that only love and humility could save humanity from themselves and not from the wrath of a jealous tyrannical creator. I see Jesus as someone who definitely would not approve of a belief system with his name attached to it. I do not see Jesus as the self-appointed leader of a club of do-gooders.     

When a child dies due to a natural disaster do we blame God? When a tree just so happens to fall on a car and kill the driver is it God who made it happen? When earthquakes hit Japan and Haiti was it God who caused them? I seriously doubt it. Earthquakes, hurricanes and tornadoes have been occurring since the beginning of time, the only differences are, we didn’t have as many people on the planet and we didn’t have 24-hour CNN coverage. There also weren’t nuclear reactors built on fault lines, so when radiation spills into our oceans do we attribute it to God’s wrath. Humans continually screw themselves. If and when civilization is obliterated, it wasn’t God saying “I told you so,” it was our own reckless and greedy behavior. The earth is a living thing. How much longer does anyone think we can poison her waterways, put toxins in her soil and cut down her forests? Eventually, just like a woman scorned, she will take revenge.

We were given safe, natural and efficient ways to produce energy. We have the options of wind, solar and water power yet we continue to drill the earth for her lifeblood, oil, and kill each other in bloody battle in the process. We continue to annihilate hundreds and thousands of men, women, children, not to mention animals and plant life, over the illusion of money and wealth and unfortunately the church that bears the name of its central figure is caught up in the same illusion. Churches are forever campaigning to raise money to build more and more churches to perpetuate more and more lies about how one faith is “truer” than the next. The God we choose to serve is usually based upon what suits our needs. It’s too bad we haven’t figured out that we are all one and have the same needs. 

~John Rullo~